“Sounds like a nice man.”
“He was hard, but mostly fair. I’d probably not be the man I am today without his stern guidance, although I rarely appreciated it growing up. The only time anyone defied him was when my mother married my father.”
“He didn’t like Harrison?”
“No. He supposedly hated the idea of his only daughter marrying a formerly enslaved dockworker.”
“People and their prejudices.”
“I know, but he forgave her after my birth. Hestill didn’t like my father any better but tolerated him for siring a grandson.”
“How generous of him. How’d Harrison handle being looked down upon?”
“He said he’d married my mother, not her father, so my grandfather’s opinion didn’t much matter.”
“Good for him. Would your grandfather have approved of your prizewinner? What’s her name again?”
“Charlotte Franklin, and yes, he would’ve approved.”
“A woman like me would’ve probably given him apoplexy.”
“Undoubtedly,” he replied, amused.
“I’m not the fashionable yoke-loving belle of the ball.”
No, she wasn’t, but he found her fascinating nonetheless. “You’re your own woman.”
“But not the kind men value. Too mouthy, too straightforward, too everything a woman isn’t supposed to be.”
“In polite society’s eyes, yes.”
“Good thing I don’t put much stock in polite society then. I happen to enjoy me.”
“I’ve decided I do as well.”
“Don’t lie, Steele. I give you apoplexy, too.”
He laughed. “You do, but I’m finding I enjoy having to reassess things because of you.”
“Things like what?”
“My own prejudices about women, for one.I’ve never met one who challenges me the way you do. Honestly, those I know back home all but trip over themselves to seek my approval.”
“That’s tied to your wealth, and the fact that you don’t favor an ogre.”
“Thanks for the compliments but you don’t care about my approval.”
“No, I don’t. It’s sort of the way Harrison felt about your grandfather. Your approval doesn’t matter because when this Welch job is done, you’ll return to Boston and yoke your life to—what’s her name again?”
He shook his head at how totally incorrigible she was. He wanted to put her across his lap, spank her audacious behind, then raise her skirts, slide two fingers into her warmth, and have her ride them until she orgasmed screaming his name. “Charlotte Franklin.”
“Yes, Charlotte Franklin, and I’ll be here in New Orleans going about my life.”
“And giving some man apoplexy.”
“If I find one worthy enough.”
The idea of her being with an unknown someone who’d get to enjoy all she was didn’t sit well, he realized. Not that he had any say in her future, but a small budding part of him wished he did. The unforeseen admission caught him so off guard, he had no idea what to do with it or about it. “What would make the man worthy?”